(no subject)

I seem to be talking about my dreams a lot more lately, I think maybe because I'm remembering them more. I dunno, I go through cycles with regards to dreams.

I just tried, in all earnest, to spell it "psychles". Wow. Best portmanteau ever.

Anyway, there was this ghost in some apartment building and he kept telling me to go clean out some old storage closets in the upper floor -- storage closets I guess I was familiar with, because they had stuff I thought I or my family had owned. Anyway, he and I both agreed that my family had once owned a Degas (seriously, a Degas?) called The Teaching Of The Lesson, which had some kind of important philosophical treatise written on the back. Eventually some other guy in the building was allowed to join me though he didn't get to help; he sat in the room and talked to the ghost.

If you've never sifted through the junk of former generations in a dream, it's not all that interesting. Though I did find a really cool pill box in the shape of a siamese cat. I did not, unfortunately, find the painting -- just documentation of it, which I already knew was there.

Again, I can cherrypick the elements that went into it -- between Carnivale's ghostly baggage trailer and well, all of White Collar, the "important painting hidden in a stash of family memories" thing isn't hard to explain. Still, I get weirded out whenever my dreams are so narrative, and involve arcane history.

Exquisite, Chapter 17

Title: Exquisite, Chapter 17
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Neal is finding a place for himself, both at the Bureau and in Peter and Elizabeth's life. Unraveling the mystery of the music box might ruin everything -- but that's a risk he has to take.

( Neal Caffrey, American, 1980 - , The Forged Frame )

Fake cut takes you to the fic at Dreamwidth.

(no subject)

I'm supposed to be going to the UChicago campus again today -- the new library...entrance...dome thing has opened, which I wanted to see, and the DuSable museum is free on Sundays.

But every joint in my body hurts for no reason I can figure out, so I might give it a miss.

Either way, it's time to post new Exquisite! Chapter Seventeen is up. Art! Coming out scenes! Flashbacks! Peter Burke, Professional Badass!

(no subject)

I went out after all. Joint pain explained: we're having some wild swings in pressure, weatherwise. I figured moving, while painful, would probably do me good.

I did get to visit the Mansueto Library doodah, which is very "spaceship by Ikea" -- there's this big glass dome that looks like it crash-landed in front of the Regenstein Library, but inside it's all blond wood and sleek modern design. It kind of cracks me up. I was sorry the Special Collections display was closed, it was about ancient architecture and looked fantastic.

I also went to the DuSable Museum of African-American History, which I think is possibly in transition to new digs at the moment, and good for them because a) their space now kind of bites, and b) they're making terrible use of it. The displays were really interesting but badly laid out, and a combination of low lighting, small font, and black-on-mauve printing made it difficult to read a lot of the placards.

As I was leaving, a little kid ran into the lobby and yelled "WHERE ARE THE DINOSAURS?" impatiently. I'm guessing they're fans of the Field Museum...

I stopped in the Loop on the way back to do some clothes shopping (Christ, when did underwear get so expensive?) and on the ride home I saw a guy playing three-card monty on a train, with a little portable red felt board and blue bottle caps and a tiny red rubber ball. I've never encountered that before in Chicago, I was impressed.

And now I'm going to take some more naproxen and die for a while.